THE INCA. Schinkenburg! I grant you, Schinkenburg has a genius for
defending market gardens. Among market gardens he is invincible. But
what is the good of that? The world does not consist of market gardens.
Turn him loose in pasture and he is lost. The Inca has defeated all
these generals again and again at manoeuvres; and yet he has to
give place to them in the field because he would be blamed for every
disaster--accused of sacrificing the country to his vanity. Vanity! Why
do they call him vain? Just because he is one of the few men who are not
afraid to live. Why do they call themselves brave? Because they have
not sense enough to be afraid to die. Within the last year the world
has produced millions of heroes. Has it produced more than one Inca? [He
resumes his seat.]
ERMYNTRUDE. Fortunately not, Captain. I'd rather marry Chips.
THE INCA [making a wry face]. Chips! Oh no: I wouldn't marry Chips.
ERMYNTRUDE. Why?
THE INCA [whispering the secret]. Chips talks too much about himself.
ERMYNTRUDE. Well, what about Snooks?
THE INCA. Snooks? Who is he? Have I a son named Snooks? There are so
many--[wearily] so many--that I often forget. [Casually.] But I wouldn't
marry him, anyhow, if I were you.
ERMYNTRUDE. But hasn't any of them inherited the family genius? Surely,
if Providence has entrusted them with the care of Perusalem--if they are
all descended from Bedrock the Great--
THE INCA [interrupting her impatiently]. Madam, if you ask me, I
consider Bedrock a grossly overrated monarch.
ERMYNTRUDE [shocked]. Oh, Captain! Take care! Incadisparagement.
THE INCA. I repeat, grossly overrated. Strictly between ourselves, I
do not believe all this about Providence entrusting the care of sixty
million human beings to the abilities of Chips and the Piffler and Jack
Johnson. I believe in individual genius. That is the Inca's secret. It
must be. Why, hang it all, madam, if it were a mere family matter, the
Inca's uncle would have been as great a man as the Inca. And--well,
everybody knows what the Inca's uncle was.
ERMYNTRUDE. My experience is that the relatives of men of genius are
always the greatest duffers imaginable.
THE INCA. Precisely. That is what proves that the Inca is a man of
genius. His relatives ARE duffers.
ERMYNTRUDE. But bless my soul, Captain, if all the Inca's generals are
incapables, and all his relatives duffers, Perusalem will be beaten in
the war; and then it will become a republic, like France after 1871, and
the Inca will be sent to St Helena.
THE INCA [triumphantly]. That is just what the Inca is playing for,
madam. It is why he consented to the war.
ERMYNTRUDE. What!
THE INCA. Aha! The fools talk of crushing the Inca; but they little know
their man. Tell me this. Why did St Helena extinguish Napoleon?
ERMYNTRUDE. I give it up.
THE INCA. Because, madam, with certain rather remarkable qualities,
which I should be the last to deny, Napoleon lacked versatility. After
all, any fool can be a soldier: we know that only too well in Perusalem,
where every fool is a soldier. But the Inca has a thousand other
resources. He is an architect. Well, St Helena presents an unlimited
field to the architect. He is a painter: need I remind you that St
Helena is still without a National Gallery? He is a composer: Napoleon
left no symphonies in St Helena. Send the Inca to St Helena, madam,
and the world will crowd thither to see his works as they crowd now to
Athens to see the Acropolis, to Madrid to see the pictures of Velasquez,
to Bayreuth to see the music dramas of that egotistical old rebel
Richard Wagner, who ought to have been shot before he was forty, as
indeed he very nearly was. Take this from me: hereditary monarchs are
played out: the age for men of genius has come: the career is open to
the talents: before ten years have elapsed every civilized country from
the Carpathians to the Rocky Mountains will be a Republic.
ERMYNTRUDE. Then goodbye to the Inca.
THE INCA. On the contrary, madam, the Inca will then have his first real
chance. He will be unanimously invited by those Republics to return from
his exile and act as Superpresident of all the republics.
ERMYNTRUDE. But won't that be a come-down for him? Think of it! after
being Inca, to be a mere President!
THE INCA. Well, why not! An Inca can do nothing. He is tied hand and
foot. A constitutional monarch is openly called an India-rubber stamp.
An emperor is a puppet. The Inca is not allowed to make a speech: he
is compelled to take up a screed of flatulent twaddle written by
some noodle of a minister and read it aloud. But look at the American
President! He is the Allerhochst, if you like. No, madam, believe me,
there is nothing like Democracy, American Democracy. Give the people
voting papers: good long voting papers, American fashion; and while the
people are reading the voting papers the Government does what it likes.
ERMYNTRUDE. What! You too worship before the statue of Liberty, like the
Americans?
THE INCA. Not at all, madam. The Americans do not worship the statue
of Liberty. They have erected it in the proper place for a statue of
Liberty: on its tomb [he turns down his moustaches.]
ERMYNTRUDE [laughing]. Oh! You'd better not let them hear you say that,
Captain.
THE INCA. Quite safe, madam: they would take it as a joke. [He rises.]
And now, prepare yourself for a surprise. [She rises]. A shock. Brace
yourself. Steel yourself. And do not be afraid.
ERMYNTRUDE. Whatever on earth can you be going to tell me, Captain?